You Guys Suck!
by GoodGodHenry
Summary: Morgan discovers Hotch and Prentiss are in a relationship. He's the last to know.


A/N: This is inspired by the many stories of how the team finds out about Hotch's relationship with a subordinate. It's usually a Spencer/ Hotch pairings. I wanted to have a little fun with a Prentiss/Hotch pairing.

~~~~~CM~~~~~

Derek took a long shower; letting the hot water pound on his shoulders and back for several minutes before he soaped up. Still feeling weary, he stepped out before the hot water could really penetrate his stiff muscles.

Toweling off, he wondered why he never bought large fluffy towels for his home. He bought towels, once, five years ago when he moved into his new house. Navy blue to match the shower curtain. They barely went around his waist, and they seemed to repel water instead of absorbing it. Derek decided he needed to hit the store when they returned home.

He laid back on the bed and sighed. Despite closing the case, he didn't feel good. They weren't able to save the victim, a 17 year old girl. The unsub fought them to the bitter end, and that bastard shoved Emily down the stairs before he died.

Derek couldn't help but smile at the memory of his partner handling the unsub in those final moments. Watching a person falling down the stairs is terrifying, but this was Emily and that woman was in a class of her own. As she fell backwards, just before her knees came up and toppled her upside down, she got off a single shot.

The unsub was shocked as the bullet ripped through his neck. He stood there in disbelief for several moments before he crumbled to the ground. He had bled out before Derek managed to run up the steps.

Emily was probably taking a long shower too; maybe a bath, soaking her bruised body. The thought of Emily covered in bruises made him jump off of bed.

Rummaging through his go bag, he found his tube of arnica gel. This would give her some relief since he knew she wouldn't take the anti-inflammatory the EMTs recommended. Throwing on pajama pants and a t-shirt, he grabbed his key card and headed to Emily's room.

~~~~~CM~~~~~

Padding down the hall in his bare feet, Derek made it his way to room 622 and knocked. He was surprised when a very underdressed version of of their boss opened the door.

"Hotch, sorry man. I thought this was Emily's room."

The older man opened the door wider, "It is. Come in."

Confused, Derek stepped in; finding the hotel room empty except for Hotch.

"She'll be out in a minute."

Closing the door behind him, Derek held up the bruise paste, "I thought she might want to use this."

Hotch sat down on the end of the king sized bed, and gestured toward the desk chair, "I couldn't get her to take more than two Advil."

Derek pulled the chair out and sat down, puzzling over Hotch's presence in Emily's room. His initial thoughts were that he was there in the same capacity as Derek, to take care of Emily. But the man, who must have been born in a suit and tie, was casually sitting in his plaid boxers and plain white t-shirt in his subordinate's room.

On. Her. Bed.

In. His. Boxers.

Plaid. Boxers.

His brow furrowed as his mind raced through each encounter his boss and partner had in recent weeks. They were normal, typical, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that would indicate a personal relationship. So what was Hotch (in his boxers) doing in Emily's hotel room?

"Babe," Emily's voice floated out as she stepped out of the bathroom in just a fluffy white towel.

The same type of towel Derek had been coveting minutes earlier in his bathroom.

His head swiveled around back and forth between Emily and Hotch, mouthing the word 'Babe'.

"What the what?" He hollered as he leapt up from the chair.

Emily's mouth fell open, and she stepped backwards into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Derek remained in place, looking between the door then at Hotch and back again.

In a bathrobe, Emily exited the bathroom again and smacked Hotch on the shoulder, "Warn a girl."

"How about warn a guy?" Derek crossed his arms and scowled, "Awww, come on, Princess. You are with Hotch? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Penelope thinks you'll punch Hotch to protect my virtue, and JJ thinks you'll use this information to take over as unit chief and assign him to the B team," said Emily as she smirked at him.

Hotch flashed a rare smile at him, "Dave thinks you'll be jealous and Reid believes you will act immaturely and give us the silent treatment for at least two weeks."

"Hold up now! I am the last to know?" Derek kicked the chair leg, "I hate being last. This sucks. You guys suck. The whole team sucks."

Emily kissed Hotch's forehead, "See, I know Morgan. I told you he would pout."

"And I told you he would focus on the wrong thing." Hotch said as he reached up to cup her face. He pulled her down for a deeper kiss. "I think it's a draw."

Disgruntled, he dropped the bruise gel on the desk, and pouted at the couple, "How long?"

"Three months." Emily said, "Garcia figured it out first and the rest of the team followed closely behind."

"Damn, I suck as a profiler," Derek stalked to the door, wrenching it open. "But you guys suck worse," he called over his shoulder as he stomped away.

~~~~~CM~~~~~


End file.
